


proper young ladies

by romans



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romans/pseuds/romans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan (history student at NYU, nineteen, orphaned, very bright) lives three doors down from Peggy's new flat.</p><p>ficlet for steverogersorbust</p>
            </blockquote>





	proper young ladies

Susan (history student at NYU, nineteen, orphaned, _very bright_ ) lives three doors down from Peggy's new flat. Peggy only knows her by name for the first few weeks; she sometimes hears heels clicking past her door in the early hours of the morning, or catches a glimpse of a dark head through a cracked door, but Susan herself is elusive. Busy with her studies, Peggy presumes, and good for her. 

"She's English, too," Angie tells her, "you should meet up with her sometime!" 

Peggy nods and smiles, and changes the subject. People in New York seem to think every British emigre in the city should be dear friends with her fellow immigrants, as if a quirk of geography was a guarantee of friendship. It is nice to have Jarvis around, sometimes, but she's been in the States long enough to get by on her own.  


In fact, she doesn't think about Susan-British-history-student-NYU again until she finds herself scaling the wall of the Griffith Hotel, barefoot and blood-streaked, shoes abandoned on the ground below her, decidedly past the 10 PM curfew.  


She should have just brazened it out with Miriam, she thinks bitterly, digging her newly-painted nails into the brick. She eases up another foot, shoves off of the escarpment, and makes a grab for her apartment window. It's a damn pity she likes this place so much; leaving for a more relaxed environment would probably do wonders for her career.  


She shimmies the window open with the aid of a pocket knife, keeping half an ear out for night watchmen, and then tumbles into her living room headfirst. She lands right on top of the bloody stab wound in her arm, naturally, and spits out a string of curses that would have done Bucky Barnes proud. She's rounding it all off with a _very_ satisfying _Goddamn it all to Hell_ when she realizes two things: 

One: she's broken into the wrong flat and Susan-British-history-etc. is standing five feet away from her, wrapped in a silk robe, staring her down. Two: she's holding what looks very much like a longbow. 

"Sorry," Peggy says, "I seem to have gotten the wrong window." 

Susan lowers the bow and arrow, with an air that suggests they're alarmingly real and not a decorative pretense, and frowns at the spreading red blotch on Peggy's sleeve.  


"Did they follow you?" she asks, which is not remotely what Peggy expected to hear from a nineteen-year-old civilian. Peggy blinks at her for a moment, and then shakes her head. 

"I lost them in Harlem," she says. Susan moves past her and peers out the window, cautiously, before she pulls it closed and shuts the curtains.

"Well," she says, turning back to Peggy, "I suppose we'd better get you stitched up. Miss Carter, am I right?"

"I'm afraid I don't know your last name," Peggy says, accepting Susan's help up off of the floor.

"Susan Pevensie," Susan says, "but I suppose you should call me Sue. There's a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, behind the drain cleaner. I'll get the iodine." 

Peggy blinks at her again, trying to reconcile her youthful face with her unruffled demeanor, and then gives up and goes looking for the whiskey. 

It's almost as if people bursting into her apartment bleeding from open wounds is normal, for Susan Pevensie the historian. So much so that she keeps supplies at hand to stitch them up. 

Peggy rolls up the sleeve of her ruined blouse, pours a dram of contraband whiskey, and considers the possibility that Susan would enjoy a position with the telephone company.

It's certainly worth considering.


End file.
